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𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆 & 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 , 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊-𝒆𝒓𝒂 & 𝒐𝒄 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒚 . 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 . 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐍.

❛ [ . . . ] 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 .

↳ please do not interact or follow if you’re associated with / are in the star wars or marvel rpc , or write any sort of anime / manga / fin.al fan.tasy content . ↳ you do not need to know anything about arena to interact with this blog , and i am happy to explain any lore you might not be familiar with in regards to the game . ↳ i am unfamiliar with other fantasy rpg franchises like the wi.tcher and dra.gon a.ge , but i am open to interacting with blogs from those games . ↳ this is not a space for minors . please do not follow me if you are under the age of 18 . i do not make exceptions . ↳ be aware that there will be untagged mentions of death , violence and abuse on this blog . i will tag other triggers on request , but please be polite in asking .

#pinned post .

i opened a new blog & swapped aliases. i’ll follow a few of you there and let you know it’s me, but only ppl i think i’d be able to interact with there so. yah.

#🤷‍♂️ im having a crisis again what can i say #its not a tes blog

I FUCKING GOT IT

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#IM ACTUALLY FUCKING VIBRATING AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT I CANT BELEIVE THIS HISISFHGDF THIS IS HEOPDNGHDI #SAKDFSDHFSDHKSFJHASDFSAD ARENA FLOPPY ARENA FLOPPY ARENA FLOPPY

doctorfvckingwho

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ¹ ⁾ 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥‚ 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 . ⁄ study .#this is still the most ic shit ever

im such a worthless fucking morrowind purist. i cant even play this fucking game with mods installed unless its the infamous lake fjalding anti-suck patch

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#i just cant do it #whenever i do a straight forward playthru of mw i can have NO added distractions #morrowind is the only tes game i cant add mods to #i just feel like it breaks the magic of it all #i have never installed a graphics overhaul mod and i NEVER fuckin will #although admittedly this time i got mge xe #its rly the only graphics improvement mod u need and its not even a real graphics improvement #its a fucking shader

here’s your random, bullshit unwarranted headcanon of the month: most mainland dunmer consider vvardenfell to be like, the american deep south of morrowind. it’s where the hicks live. the absolute asscrack of the province. most mainlanders are convinced they don’t even have proper buildings over there-- just ashlander huts or whatever it is that the hicks live in. more religious types, like temple-goers, are under the nicer impression that vvardenfell is still the deeply spiritual location as established by the temple in the early second era. meanwhile, most important folks in great houses know that vvardenfell isn’t a backwards shithole, but they’re still a little weirded out by people who choose to live there.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#this is just me outing vyel as a hick #you think she was BORN with that high imperial-dunmer accent? NO #GOOOOD NO #it was CULTIVATED #before spending so much time w imperials . her cyrodiilic was UNINTELLIGIBLE #it's natural for her to speak so clearly now but she falls back into it sometimes #when drunk. or tired. or ..... otherwise distracted.#vyel speaking w her unfiltered voice is a huge thunk. i wish i could say it was attractive but it isnt #its probably that fucking australian accent that bethany wants to associate w dunmer so fucking badly for whatever reason

s/b: were you born here? in the imperial city, i mean. vyel: no, no. s/b: oh, from the border then? cheydinhal? vyel: n...no. s/b: a native dunmer! how wonderful. from mournhold? blacklight? vyel, as quietly as humanly possible: no, i’m from vvardenfell s/b: what? i didn’t quite catch that :) vyel: VVARDENFELL. I GREW UP ON VVARDENFELL, IN THE BACKWOODS OF MORROWIND, TENDING TO ASHYAMS AND RAISING GUARS, CHASED DOWN BY CLIFFRACERS NO MATTER WHERE I WENT--

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#vyel: im very proud of my vvardenfellian heritage #also vyel: mutters it under her breath whenever outlanders ask where she's from

and hey, since i’m apparently using pinterest again, here’s vyel’s board.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#its rather sparse bc i decided to remake it from the ground up but !#we're chuggin

i was gonna do a creative edit w these but i couldn’t figure out what i want to do exactly so here’s what’s left of that

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁴ ⁾ 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰‚ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵 . ⁄ vis .#me chanting: vyel crying! vyel crying! vyel crying!

and i didn’t even cover the crisis era. i didn’t even cover the part where things got really intense between them because they were juggling a fucking empire between them.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#how many fucking times did they press foreheads together and sigh out of relief #share long fucking hugs after finishing hrs of fucking damage control #the fucking HAND HOLDING.

and since i’ll probably never get an ocato, i wanna talk about that. because during that weird period between the simulacrum and the crisis, he and vyel get close. they were friends beforehand. good friends. but they really bonded in the post of all that occurred. he, the right hand of the emperor, she, the left. it makes sense that they become inseparable. it’s not an overnight thing, either. she trusts him, but she doesn’t trust him. not like she trusts uriel. but, there’s a moment where he extends a hand. he sees how she’s slipping, struggling, floundering for air-- and tosses her a float. after that, she leans on him. hard. and he takes it in stride. as time goes on, and wounds heal, her appreciation for him is overwhelming. and his pride in her strength is tangible.

i’d say they loved each other. honestly and truly. and i think vyel was in love with him. it’s hard to be certain about, but he really, really meant the world to her. if he asked her to set herself on fire, she probably would have. i dunno. he made her feel the same way ria did, but it was a lot more intense. a lot more .. real. ria was soft, light, and made her feel warm. ocato was a different beast. and when she lost him, it fucking shattered her.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ² ⁾ 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 . ⁄ lore .#im still begging for an ocato #i really am

she gets into the habit of drinking quite heavily after the simulacrum. after all the dust has settled, her usual glass of sujamma after a long day turns slowly into a glass of sujamma whenever she can squeeze it in. vyel is a functional alcoholic. a startlingly functional alcoholic. you couldn’t tell even if you really tried to see it. you’d only know if you were up close, where you can smell it coming off her. and nobody asks questions. she does her work and does it well, with no issues related to the copious drinking. sometimes, it got excessive. i mean, the habit in general was excessive, but it got really bad for short periods of time. a few weeks where she’s not all together. fumbling and slurring. sometimes making scenes. but before anyone can truly draw attention to it, she’s back in line.

there’s one time where she makes a debacle. a full blown episode. at a fucking gala. one place where public drinking is acceptable, and she takes it to an extreme. blabbering to anyone who will listen about how nothing is fucking fair. the world is fucking awful, and she honestly does not care to fucking live in it. eventually, uriel has her put up for the night. her own men guiding her stubborn ass back to her room, and asking her nicely to just go to bed. and after some arguments, she does. uriel spends the next few weeks making apologies to various lords and counts. and one man’s wife, because she had the misfortune of looking a little too much like ria, and was given quite the earful for that.

about six or seven years before the crisis, she curbed the habit at uriel’s behest. but it creeps up on her during her wandering years. it’s never as bad as it used to be, but her liver is really fucking suffering by the time 4E 201 rolls around.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ² ⁾ 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 . ⁄ lore .#alcoholism /#alcohol /

she keeps the business end of the staff of chaos on her desk in her office for some time. kept on a little silver stand that the palace guard pitched in for. they get a huge kick out of it. vyel ... finds it hard to look at it. she can, and she does, every day for almost 2 years. glancing at it over her paperwork, eyeing the jagged glass and charred metal. seeing herself in the reflection; distorted and broken. in that reflection, she sees a woman heralded as a champion, as a hero. a woman who saved the empire! saved everyone. everyone but a single, unimportant person. someone who’s funeral was sorely under-attended. how can she deserve this honor if she failed to save every. single. person? in that reflection, she can see jagar laughing. laughing at her. at her shortcomings. her mistakes. she endures it every day, that aging, scowling face staring back at her. that glittering, beautiful claw-foot piece staring into her very soul. almost two years pass before she finally snaps. she picks it up and launches it across the fucking room. whatever glass remained shattering against the far door. she clear swipes her desk, destroying everything on its surface, throwing everything to the floor. she even flips the fucking thing, and is moments from torching her office. but the guard comes in.

after that, she wraps the piece up, and sends it back to her home in blacklight, to be stored in her home with everything else she can’t stand to look at.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ² ⁾ 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 . ⁄ lore .

after the emperor was freed, and what happened to him finally came to light, citizens of the imperial city flocked to the white-gold tower to see him. the penitus oculatus surrounded the base of the tower, and uriel made an appearance for the first time in several years. he explained jagar’s treachery, and assured everyone he was alright. safe. all with vyel standing close behind him. she didn’t expect him to call attention to her. well, part of her saw it coming, but she didn’t truly expect him to offer her up to the crowd. ‘this is my savior-- my champion. redoran vyel sadryn.’ she was a little baffled. stage-shook at all the eyes on her. they roared her name as uriel announced her championship. and her placement as the magister militum. i have a very strong mental image of uriel taking a slight step to the side, gesturing vyel forward. ‘say something to them.’ and at first, she looks confounded, her bruised and battered face contorting into a thoughtful scowl. and the look of realization coming onto her face. the way she raises her hand, palm down, addressing the now-silent masses.

‘i’m no hero. i only did what i thought was right. i’ve always tried to do what’s right. and i ... i will continue to do so. as best as i am able. your needs, are my needs. i am yours.’

she remembers that applause for the rest of her life.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ² ⁾ 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 . ⁄ lore .#if it wasnt obvious im thinking REAL hard abt simulacrum era vyel today

i’m really stuck on uriel coming out of that oblivion gate. stumbling, lost and confused. vyel, not far off, wheezing and coughing through swallowed blood and the thick, putrid air. trying to get her bearings. trying to make the world stop spinning from her place on her knees. catching uriel’s eye just as he sees her, and vyel struggling to her feet. he’s alive. he’s safe. and she does her very best to get to him, but he’s in far better shape than her. meets her halfway. absolutely engulfs her in a tight embrace. she’s so utterly shellshocked that it takes her a moment to hug back. the guard, the blades, when they finally break in to the throne room, they find their emperor, safe and sound, still clinging to his champion.

when they leave, hobbling along lent up against each other, swimming in a sea of fretting blades and stern looking guards, they say nothing. they don’t say anything for a long time.

𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐫𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. a victory that inflicts such a devastating toll on the victor that it is tantamount to defeat. winning a pyrrhic victory takes a heavy toll that negates any true sense of achievement or damages long-term progress.

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁴ ⁾ 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰‚ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵 . ⁄ vis .#mm.

uriel: i name thee the eternal champion. you’re now my right hand man, sadryn. you’ve earned it-- vyel, bleeding and banged up beyond human belief, about to fall flat on her face: w-wonderful. excellent. can i take a nap?

#◟ ﹥ ⁽ ⁰ ⁰ ⁰ ⁾ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 . ⁄ out .#that fight with jagar was no joke

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in peace.